Through Time and Magic
by KCKibbles
Summary: Tom Riddle knew he was different from the others. But a wizard? That was crazy. Six children his age say otherwise. They also seemed pretty convinced he could help them in some way or another. There's one problem though, Tom doesn't want anything to do with them or their magic.
1. Chapter 1

****Summary: Tom Riddle had always known he was different from everybody else, but a wizard? That was just crazy.

Six children his age say otherwise. They say this war wasn't supposed to start so early or carry on for so long. They say he should have known he was a wizard five years ago. They say he should be the top student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

They say they're from the future and might need his help.

There's one problem though. Tom doesn't want anything to do with them or their magic.

* * *

**Chapter One**

The day was only halfway over in London. It was, in popular opinion, a ridiculously hot day in the month of October. When it should be feeling rather cool by now and you would usually begin wearing thicker clothes to keep yourself as warm as possible, the weather called for something much more revealing instead. Most of the inhabitants of London found themselves indoors attempting to keep cool.

That was actually something Tom Riddle would rather be doing. Unfortunately, that was not possible because he had been literally dragged to a questionable area somewhere in South London. He would certainly be able to find his way back to a more pleasant area if given enough time, but he would rather not have to deal with people when asking for directions. Humans were terrible company, especially the ones he was currently surrounded by. Hot, sweaty, men who seemed to not know the meaning of the word "bathe" were pressing against his sides, hollering at each other or smoking and drinking, not particularly caring about who they were annoying.

"Why am I here again?" Tom asked dully, leaning forward on the railing around the small arena which encased two dogs. One dog, which Tom mentally named "The Victim" was a gray pit-bull with its jaws clamped shut with a muzzle. The other dog, a mutt he named "The Attacker", was attacking The Victim viciously, taking full advantage of the fact the other dog could not defend itself. In Tom's unprofessional opinion, the fight was over before it even started.

A hand clapped down and his shoulder and he just barely repressed a sneer at the contact. "So that I can blame you if we get caught," the owner of said hand replied. The Attacker was ripping at The Victim's shoulders. Blood splattered the wall and a few droplets landed on some men on the other side of the ring. They opened their mouths wide and cheered. "And so that maybe you can use your little "talent" to help me out with this one."

Tom glared at the short, dirty blond haired boy next to him. "You bet on that hopeless case?" He nodded and Tom huffed. "God, Anthony. You could have told me and I would have done something sooner."

He turned to the dogs and concentrated on The Attacker. The sounds of the crowd faded until he could barely hear them as a low buzz. All that seemed to exist was him and the two dogs. At his will, The Attacker ripped the muzzle off of The Victim which immediately began to retaliate. The rest of the audience started shouting obscenities at each other and throwing heavy items into the ring in hopes of distracting The Victim as a large amount of them had placed their money on it. Tom focused his power on The Attacker, forcing it to fight poorly. Now that The Victim's weapon was free of the muzzle, it was about to dig into the other dog's left hind leg until it was mangled beyond recognition. Anthony, Tom's companion, managed to keep any of the surrounding people from distracting Tom until the match was over.

When he was sure that the tables had turned, Tom blinked and stopped using his "talent". Anthony kept a hand on his shoulder to keep him from swaying and falling among the riled crowd. Controlling an animal, something he had once been able to do easily as a child, was both mentally and physically exhausting. They both looked up when a roar of cheers signaled the winner, The Victim.

"Yes!" Anthony cheered, letting go of Tom who stumbled a bit. Tom narrowed his eyes at the blond. Sensing Tom's displeasure over being used, Anthony quickly promised over half of the winning money to him for his help.

The crowd began to thin as the men who lost their bets left to find something better to do. Anthony, Tom, and a very few amount of others remained in a line to collect their winnings. Tom looked over at the arena where The Victim was in time to see a man kill it with a blow to the back of the head. He just shook his head at the waste of a good source of money and turned his attention back to an old man who was staring at him and Anthony. The man was probably the one awarding them the money.

"Shouldn't you two be in school?" he asked gruffly, pulling out a few bills and looking through them as he counted the appropriate amount.

"Shouldn't you be minding your own business?" Anthony retorted with a small pout. Tom rolled his eyes. "We've got the day off 'cause of a bomb threat."

The man looked at them incredulously before taking his name and handing him their winnings. They both left quickly before any more questions were asked.

It was almost one o'clock and neither of them seemed to have anything better to do than just stand around in an alley a few blocks away from the show they had just attended. A few horse-drawn carriages passed by and Anthony wrinkled his nose distastefully.

"Remember when there used to be cars?" Anthony asked. "Those were great, what happened to them? They were faster and there was a lot less shit on the road."

Tom snorted. "Do you not pay attention to the news? The military needs them much more than civilians. Be grateful we still have them for public transportation. I'm sure you must have learned something about them in school."

"As if I have nothing better to do than pay attention in class…"

The wars were having disastrous effects on London in Tom's opinion. The strange thing was that when one ended, a lot of the information about the war would be lost. What were they fighting for? Who was winning? Who was losing? Why was nobody else _asking_ these questions? Right now they were going through what was unofficially called World War Two, only four years after the first World War and officially one of the longest wars within the past two hundred years. Tom was tired of seeing so many damaged buildings and the bombings were annoying and quite honestly terrifying… He despised the fact he froze every time the sound of multiple planes went over the city.

"Why _aren't _you in school?" Tom asked when Anthony handed him his share of money. He nonchalantly began to count it to make sure it was the right amount. Why the boy skipped school was beyond him, doing well in school helped secure a chance of going to a university where you could avoid getting enlisted into the army. They were running out of soldiers and Anthony was just begging to get enlisted and die in what would probably be an extremely painful way.

He grinned. "Like you're one to talk."

Tom scowled. "You're wasting your valuable education time on silly things like _gambling._"

"I've been getting more money than you and your stupid job," Anthony pointed out with a smug smirk. A vase which had been perched precariously on a windowsill above them fell, missing Anthony only because he just barely managed to duck out of the way. It shattered violently on the ground. "Alright! Sorry, geez…"

Tom ignored him, walking out of the alley to find a train station or tramway. He had never been on this side of the city before and he did not plan on getting too familiar with it. Whether or not Anthony followed him didn't matter, the boy was not the kind of company he should be seeking. He skipped _school_ for crying out loud. He was also a compilation of a load of things he looked down upon: laziness, immaturity, and an extreme lack of intellect and common sense.

But he was the only one who knew the true extents of his "talent" and wasn't afraid even though he was fully aware of the incident that happened just under a year ago. Tom assumed that the lack of intellect and common sense had something to do with that.

Tom maneuvered through the area quickly, mapping the whole area in his head as he did so. Not many other people were out because of the weather and possibly to avoid confrontation with each other. The whole area had an antisocial feel about it which Tom couldn't help but appreciate. All of the shops he passed were obviously neglected, so none interested him except one. The thing that separated it from all the others was that rather than looking neglected, it looked _old_ as if it had been there for several decades. Seeing the books resting on the shelves through the window was what made him go inside.

The shopkeeper was at a desk attempting to repair what looked like a large clock and looked up at Tom in alarm. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours and Tom began to wonder if he was allowed to go inside at all. Finally the shopkeeper just cocked an eyebrow at him and gestured at the rest of the shop, inviting him to take a look around.

As he has seen through the window, there were shelves of books, but most of them were not labeled on the spine and seemed to be covered in dust. The ones that _did_ have titles seemed too silly to even be worth reading. _The Giggles, Grunts, and Groans of Ghosts, Vanquishing Vile Village Vampires, _and _A Guide to Wonderfully Wicked Wives,_ to name a few.

He was paging through a book titled _A Distinctly Difficult Dragon Dilemma_ when he noticed that Anthony was standing outside of the shop looking around wildly. Tom put the book back in the shelf and watched him curiously, wondering if he just hadn't seen him enter the shop. Deciding not to worry him too much, he exited it and walked right next to him, noticing the shopkeeper looking disappointed that he didn't buy anything.

Anthony yelped when he saw him. "Where the bloody hell did you come from?" he gasped, hand on his chest. "Did you… turn yourself invisible or something?"

Tom hadn't been able to do that since the children at the orphanage stopped bullying him when he was six. He frowned and tilted his head. "I was in the shop right behind you."

Anthony turned around quickly, biting his lip. He turned back to Tom with a strange look on his face. "Um, ok, whatever you say, I guess." He cleared his throat. "So, you want to get out of here?"

"Of course."

"Great, tram should be here any second." Anthony grabbed his sleeve and pulled him around the corner, ignoring Tom's protests of being touched. Sure enough, a tram was waiting. They both leaped on board and Anthony flashed both of their cards to an inspector before they settled in the back.

"We can hang out at my house for a while." Anthony suggested. "My mum loves it when you come over."

Tom shook his head. "I work at two."

"Ah. How about we visit Hypatia afterwards? She always puts you in a great mood. You'll need it after working with that twat, Williams."

Edward Williams was the proud owner of the Slaughterhouse Lounge, a small diner with a bookshop attached to the back. Tom was paid under-the-table to do simple tasks such as cleaning and occasionally cooking or working at the register. It was not a pleasant place to work at all and Tom suspected there was another business that Williams practiced, but he didn't care enough to find out. Besides, shoving his nose where it didn't belong might get him fired and he honestly couldn't find another place that would hire him because they had an issue with his age or with his little incident.

"I don't know what time I'll get off," Tom said. The thought of visiting Hypatia was a very pleasant one indeed and he'd hate to miss an opportunity.

"I'll just tell my sister to leave the door open for you. I'm sure she'll let you in no matter what time it is. She appreciates the things you do for her, after all."

Tom shrugged and looked outside of the tram. He could already see their destination and then pushed Anthony out just before they reached it. Anthony rolled on the ground for a second, then jumped to his feet and ran at the side of the tram to curse at him until it stopped. Tom stepped out and smirked at him.

"Don't drag me around London again," he said simply. Anthony scowled, nursing a large scrape on his arm. Tom looked through a shop's window at a clock to check the time. "Time for work. I'll see you later, then."

"I hope you get fired," Anthony said bitterly.

* * *

"You're late!" Williams snarled when Tom entered the diner. Tom looked up at the clock on the opposite wall which revealed he was actually about ten minutes _early_. He cocked an eyebrow at Williams but said nothing of it. "Go wash those dishes and after that, go find Ellie. She needed you for something."

Tom went behind the counter and through a door where a surprisingly small pile of dishes waited for him. On a rack were some clean dishes that seemed to have been washed only a minute ago. He had a sneaking suspicion that it had been Ellie who had done them, but decided it didn't matter. Less work for him. He pulled on some rubber gloves and began.

Ellie was Edward Williams's daughter, a woman about seven years Tom's senior. The large age difference, however, did not stop her from harboring a large crush on him. Occasionally Tom used that to his advantage, persuading her to do some of his tasks for him instead so that he would finish his work earlier and still get paid the same amount as long as her father did not find out. It seemed she was doing it all on her own now, how delightful.

"Tom!" He turned around from the glasses he was washing and saw Ellie rush in, looking flustered.

"What is it, Ellie?" Tom asked, faking a look of deep concern and pulling off the gloves he was wearing. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, it's just that… I have this huge favor to ask of you."

Tom hoped he covered that look of displeasure on his face before she had seen it. So she was trying to put him in a good mood in order to get him to do something she wanted? How… like himself. He didn't like it.

"Anything for you, ma'am," he said softly, bowing his head a little. He knew she despised it when he called her "ma'am" because it made her feel old. Tom was barely able to conceal his smirk when she stiffened and bit her lip.

"There's this boy about your age here. He's... he's all messed up. I-I can't call the police, not here."

He tilted his head to the side a little. "What exactly do you want me to do about that?"

"He's babbling nonsense and… well, I think he's mad, I don't know how to deal with it. He's hurt so he might only be acting this way because of the injury. I just want to get him out of here… back to his home. But the thing is: he's doing strange things. There's this stick… I'm too scared to go back in there. It's not normal. Not normal at all."

So the boy was potentially dangerous and she saw it fit to send a _sixteen-year-old boy_ in there with him? How intelligent.

"Can't your father do something about it?"

"He'll just kick him out to the street. Something's really wrong with him though. Please Tom, you're his age, maybe you can get through to him."

"You don't really expect me to j-"

"Go or I'll fire you."

Tom's mouth clamped shut and he stared at her in astonishment. Her arms were cross and her jaw set. She was standing straight, but not too forcefully and it was all of this that told Tom she was dead serious about it. He was reluctantly impressed.

"Where is he, then?" he asked bitterly.

Immediately her stance relaxed and she pointed to the back where they kept old supplies and damaged books. He opened the door and stepped inside, prepared for the worst case scenario: being attacked.

Luckily nothing of the sort happened, although Ellie did close the door behind him which trapped him inside. Tom studied the boy from a distance. The most notable traits were his red hair, freckles, long black robes, and height; he was probably just a bit taller than Tom. He was lying on the ground holding his arm up and pointing a stick in the air. Large pink bubbles were coming out from the top of the stick (a toy?) and sticking themselves to the ceiling. The boy was giggling to himself madly like a child who found a new toy he wasn't supposed to be playing with. Knowing only one way to deal with people like this since there had been one at the orphanage, he went a little closer.

"Hello," he said, immediately catching the boy's attention.

"Look at my bubbles. Aren't they funny? I can't do stuff like this with real spells… ha ha ha…"

"Yes, very funny," Tom said gently. He took a few steps closer and saw that the boy was indeed injured in some way. Dark blood was trailing out of his mouth. Was he beaten up? It was possible, considering his apparent mental state. "Why don't you tell me your name and we can try to get you home?"

He had stopped paying attention and Tom grimaced.

"My name is a little funny, like those bubbles. It's Tom, Tom Riddle. Is your name funny or boring?" He felt like he was speaking to a child and it left a terrible taste in his mouth.

That got the boy's attention. It took all of Tom's willpower not to flinch back when he lurched forward, his hands shooting forward to grasp his shirt. Fortunately for Tom, he missed and fell on the floor. He giggled feebly.

"It's Ron. Ron Weasley… weasel… ha ha ha… wheezy-bee…"

* * *

**A/N: **I don't know what I'm doing... ha. Third full length fanfic when I haven't even finished any of the others. I couldn't help but post this one, it's been stuck in my head for a while. It was inspired by chapter 91 of the drabble fic Unspoken by **Jawsome**. Chapter 91 of that has Tom as a Muggle and he meets Ginny very briefly. Mine is not a Tom/Ginny nor is Tom a Muggle, it was just inspired by it but I felt like I should mention it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Ron Weasley," Tom repeated. "That _is_ a strange name."

The redhead giggled again, face still on the floor. With a roll of his eyes, Tom rolled him over onto his back and examined him for any obvious injuries. From the corner of his eye, he saw the toy stick fall out of the boy's hand and roll between two boxes of books.

As far as Tom could tell, Ron didn't have any fatal injuries. There was a bruise was beginning to form on his right cheek, but aside from and that a few cuts here and there he was fine. The blood from the mouth was a bit concerning so he grabbed his chin and forced him to lie still as he examined it. The blood was already drying and apparently the bleeding stopped. Tom, unfortunately, was no doctor so he didn't know what he would have done if he still _was_ bleeding. He used Ron's sleeve to wipe the blood off of his face and turned away to move the boxes in order to retrieve the toy stick he dropped.

"Alright, Ron, do you know where you live?"

"Burrow… burrowing in the Burrow…"

Tom looked around when he heard his morose tone. It was much different from his excited giggling a moment ago. He almost sounded tired and confused, like he had been knocked out a little while ago and was just waking up.

"Where the bloody hell am I?" Ron finally asked. Tom sat straighter and opened his mouth to reply but the boy's head dropped back down and he apparently fainted.

Tom huffed and reached forward to pick up the toy. His fingers just barely brushed the wood when it shot off painful sparks. Tom's body pitched forward and he gasped, just barely managing to catch himself. Many of the items which had been resting on shelves had fallen down onto the floor, missing him and Ron by inches.

His body trembled and he felt strangely… tingly. Tom flexed his fingers uncertainly and then stared at the "toy" reproachfully. Slowly, he extended his hand toward it again, hovering over it uncertainly. A tiny spark shot out from between it and the "toy" so he quickly pulled away, mentally naming it "weapon" now.

Was that part of the "not normal" things Ellie mentioned when she said she was too scared to come back in? Tom frowned and waved his hand at a thin box a few feet away on the floor. It flew toward him and dumped out its contents before landing in one of his hands. He did the same with the "weapon" and it flew into the box so that he would be able to carry it around.

"What happened?" Ellie asked when he left the room with the sealed box tucked into his deep pockets. "How is he?"

"Based on the unprofessional opinion of a sixteen-year-old dishwasher, I've concluded that he's fine. His name is Ron Weasley. His mental state is questionable since he sounded lucid just before he went unconscious," Tom replied.

"He's unconscious? Did you get a chance to ask him where he lives?"

"He said the Burrow, but I've never heard of such a place. I think it's best if you just kept him here or at your home for a day until he wakes up and is well enough for you to take him back home, ma'am."

"Here?" she repeated, mortified. "Can't _you_ take him?"

This time Tom didn't bother to hide his sneer. "I live at an orphanage, not a homeless shelter. Or is that what I look like to you? A common tramp?"

Ellie eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Oh no, Tom! No, I didn't mean that at all!" She was blushing furiously. "I j-just forgot! But I can't jus-"

Now tremendously irritated, Tom glared into her eyes. "Do as I say!" he commanded. Her mouth clamped shut and she immediately left him. He took a shuddering breath, annoyed that he had used another one of his "talents" when he _knew_ he shouldn't have. It forced people to do things he wanted against their will but if he used it too much they would notice and the results usually varied from bad to disastrous.

Tom went back to the dishes, pulled the gloves back on, and finished washing them. As soon as he was done he went to the front to see how he could help. Williams was so busy talking to a woman who had just entered that he didn't notice a few people waiting for somebody to take their order. He quickly grabbed a notepad and pen to take the orders himself.

"I'm sorry for the wait," he said to an old couple who had been waiting there the longest.

"It's quite alright," said the old woman. "We're in no hurry."

The old man was staring at him with narrowed eyes. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Tom forced himself to smile. "No, sir," he replied. "Now, what would you like today?"

After writing down both of their orders he ripped the page off and put it on a hook for Ellie to look at and make. Tom turned around to take the orders of a few more customers but stopped when he saw he was beat to it by the woman Williams had been talking to. A new employee? That wasn't good – not for him at least. How old was she? Worried that he would have to find a new job, Tom circled her from a distance, trying to decide how old she was.

She was fair skinned with a white buttoned shirt and a tight black skirt. If Tom didn't know better he would assume she had picked those clothes out of a charity bin. It wasn't that they looked bad or shabby; they just did not seem to suit her. Her hair, though tied up, was extremely bushy and seemed untamable if she was to let it loose. It was difficult for him to decide how old she was, but he was pretty sure she was between sixteen and twenty.

"Hello," she said when she spotted him. "Can I help you?"

He smirked. She thought he was a customer. "I was just wondering why a pretty young lady like you is working in a dingy place such as this." Now that she was so close to him, he could see she wasn't very pretty at all. It had more to do with her not bothering to put on makeup than just being ugly which was fine by him.

"You work where you can," she said, looking nervous. How interesting.

"True. How old are you miss…?"

"It's not really any of your business, is it?"

He opened his mouth to tell her it was because it would determine whether he would still have a job by the end of the day. Unfortunately, he was cut off by William's shout.

"Tom!"

Tom twitched and looked at Williams. He noticed the girl now looked a little confused and seemed to slowly be coming to the realization that he worked there.

"Sir?"

"Take the rest of the day off. I want to see how this girl works. I'll tell you tomorrow if you should bother coming back to work anymore."

"Of course, sir," Tom said. He turned to the woman again. "I'll order an entire lemon cheesecake and a mint tea."

Her mouth was slowly dropping open and he smiled charmingly. "I'm not working now, so I might as well be a customer. It should not take long, Ellie usually has the cakes ready by this time." He thought about his visit to Hypatia. "Better box the cake to go."

She nodded dumbly and quickly went to the back. After giving him his tea, she went back and forth to give out the orders she and Tom had taken. As soon as he finished his tea she came back with the cake and bill. He paid it without comment and left the building to walk to a pet shop where Hypatia and probably Anthony were.

* * *

In the pet shop there were only small animals that needed to be contained such as birds, reptiles, fish, and rodents. There used to be a dog once but he wasn't completely sure what happened to it. It was shabby but kept surprisingly clean compared to the outside where almost every building on the block was severely damaged or destroyed.

"That was fast," Anthony said from a chair next to a counter when he saw him come in. A flicker of worry crossed his face. "You… didn't get fired, did you? Because I totally wasn't serious when I said that and if I jinxed it then-"

"I wasn't fired," Tom said, rolling his eyes and placing the boxed cake onto the counter. The other boy eyed it hungrily. "Now… Hypatia?"

Anthony nodded and slid off the stool, grabbing a ring of keys hanging underneath the counter. Tom walked to his side and waited for him to unlock the door leading to the back. As soon as it was open, Tom slid past Anthony and winced at the cool air used to control the store's more hostile or sick reptiles. He quickly scanned the room.

"Where is she?" Tom asked.

"Around the corner," Anthony replied. "I don't think she really likes any of the snakes here."

Immediately Tom spotted a corner he hadn't noticed before and went around it, coming face-to-face with Anthony's sister. She opened her mouth to greet him but he pushed past her to the large aquarium that was against the wall. Inside was a fifteen foot long black mamba, Hypatia.

The snake was being kept in the pet shop illegally. The only reason she was there was because Tom couldn't bear to return her to where she had come from, a venom lab which had done multiple tests on her and he couldn't take her to the orphanage where he lived. It was Anthony who offered the pet shop his sister owned as a sanctuary for her. However, she was a very aggressive snake, striking at the slightest movement, so the back of the shop was kept cool in order to make her sluggish and more docile so that she may be fed without the feeder being bitten.

Tom placed a hand against the glass and the snake pushed its body against it for the warmth.

"**Have you been treated well?" **he asked her. From the corner of his eye he saw Anthony give an odd twitch when he spoke. The boy had seen him do this several times. It was another part of Tom's "talent" and the only one that did not seem to fade over time. Tom didn't know what it sounded like to other people when he spoke the language of the snakes, but it must have been unnerving if Anthony was still uncomfortable with it after three years. Anthony's sister, Sylvia, wasn't used to it at all and was against the opposite wall as far away from him as possible. He turned his attention back to Hypatia.

"**The cold irritates me. So tired…" **she hissed back.

"**They do not trust you. You are much too powerful for them to control in a way that will not kill you." **He had explained it to her many times before.

"**I want to leave."**

"**One day."** Tom glanced at Anthony who was staring in silent fascination while his sister looked terrified. They had learned the hard way not to disturb the snakes when Tom was speaking to them. **"When I leave this place, I will take you with me. You will be free."**

"**They will kill me."**

"**If they show any ill intent, I will make sure they are punished. For now, they shall not be harmed."** He removed his hand from the side and lifted the heavy lid so that she could slither out and up his arm to drape around his shoulders. Anthony twitched when her tongue flicked out and the movement immediately caused Hypatia to hiss and turn her head at him.

"**Do not bite,"** Tom hissed a little more viciously than he intended. She lowered her head so that it rested on his collarbone.

When Anthony realized their conversation was over, he relaxed but kept a careful eye on Hypatia. "You're so freaky sometimes," he said good naturally.

Sylvia cleared her throat and both boys turned toward her. "Tom… would you mind feeding her? I'm just too… too terrified of her." She laughed nervously.

"Of course," he said, giving her a charming smile. He didn't dare mistreat Sylvia in any way, even if she was annoying sometimes. As long as she kept Hypatia safe, he was willing to do most things for her that he would not do for others. "Oh, and help yourself to some cake. I left it on the counter in the front."

"You suck up," Anthony said with a snort when Sylvia left. "Now are you going to tell me why you're out early?"

"I was not fired," Tom repeated from before, stroking Hypatia's head with his thumb. "But it seems I may be soon. Somebody is after my job and Williams saw it fit to test her potential for the rest of the day."

"Her? Oh man, you're so fired," Anthony sighed. "Williams would love to have eye candy around. Was she pretty?"

"Average."

"Have you thought about… you know… getting rid of her? It would take forever for you to find another job! You've said it loads of times."

"Getting rid of her," Tom said, as if tasting the words for the first time. "How do you expect me to do something like that?"

Anthony's eyes flicked onto Hypatia for a moment, but then he seemed to change his mind and stared at a harmless king snake dozing in its own cage instead. Tom sneered at him.

"And have a repeat of what happened last time? I don't want that to happen _ever_ again. My abilities may make me superior to everyone else, but they won't solve all of my problems." Hypatia shifted and placed her head on Tom's shoulder instead. "Or anybody else's for that matter."

"**Hungry…"** Hypatia hissed.

"**I know." **Tom walked to where some large rats were caged to feed the snakes and pulled one out by the tail. He unceremoniously knocked it unconscious and tossed it into Hypatia's aquarium. She slid off his shoulder and back into the aquarium to feed. Tom closed the lid when he was sure she was completely inside and watched her eat.

"Aside from the girl, did anything interesting happen?" Anthony asked.

"Yes, actually," Tom said. "Ellie found a boy named Ron Weasley. We thought he was mentally challenged but he seemed lucid before he went unconscious. He was injured and Ellie thought I would be able to diagnose his condition and decide what to do with him."

"In her defense, you are unusually smart," said Anthony. "So what'd you do with him?"

"It seemed he would be fine so I told Ellie to let him either stay there or at her home for a night or until he wakes up and can tell her where she's from." Tom pulled out the thin box and opened it to shock Anthony its contents. "He was playing with this."

"It's a stick… A sanded stick, look how smooth that is," Anthony said with a raised eyebrow. He reached forward to pick it up but Tom moved it out of the way.

"Don't touch it. When I did it…" Tom trailed off, not completely sure what happened. "It sparked and it hurts."

"It looks like a really big chopstick."

"A very painful chopstick," Tom said bitterly and Anthony laughed. Tom closed the box and placed it in a cabinet behind some rodent food. He did not want to take it back to the orphanage where one of the children might touch it and hurt themselves.

Anthony waited until he was done to say, "Come on, let's go back to the front. I want that cake."

"I didn't buy it for _you_," Tom said, but did not stop him from leaving and helping himself to a large slice.

Sylvia was eating her piece slowly, her eyes on the door to the entrance of the pet shop, obviously hoping for any customers. Of course, with this part of the city mostly destroyed not many people would actually be out shopping for pets and only an idiot would waste money to buy food for their pets. Tom wouldn't be surprised if the store closed down soon, he just hoped he would be able to get Hypatia out of there.

* * *

It was almost eleven by the time Tom arrived at the orphanage where he lived. The matrons there were already used to him arriving very late, but they still locked the door, knowing he always somehow found a way back inside. They never bothered to ask how so he supposed they had no qualms on whether or not an axe murder was on the loose.

For as long as Tom could remember, the orphanage wasn't a pleasant place to look at. He was sure that if there wasn't a war it would merely look run-down, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. The building was square, blackened from smoke and surrounded by high rusty railings with overgrown weeds growing through the cracks in the concrete of the courtyard.

Tom walked up the step to the door and waved his hand in front of the door and heard the click signaling he had successfully unlocked it. He slunk into the orphanage and looked around to see if anyone was still awake and wandering the halls. It wasn't much of a surprise to see Mrs. Cole sitting on an old chair in a corner, swirling the contents of a wineglass slowly. Running an orphanage overrun with children in during a war was finally taking its toll on her.

"Tom," she greeted softly. It was not too obvious that she was straining to keep her voice clear of a slur she probably already had, but he said nothing of it. It was late in the night and he didn't blame her for trying to relieve some of her sorrows with cheap wine.

He inclined his head. "Mrs. Cole."

"Billy and Adam ran away," she said.

He stood straighter, frowning. "It's not because of you," he assured. "They were turning eighteen soon, they were scared." Many of the older children were running away before they turned eighteen. Eighteen-year-old orphans were expendable in this time of war.

Nobody would miss them.

"And you? Do you plan on running away?"

He did, but he said nothing because he knew she already knew the answer.

"I'm going to bed," Tom said instead. She nodded and allowed him to go up to his room.

Unsurprisingly, his bed was already occupied by two children. There was a time when Tom would have been furious and drove them out of his room, but now he learned to tolerate intrusions such as this. He just moved them over to one side of the bed, changed into his night clothes, and laid down on the other side. He didn't go straight to sleep though, being one who always had trouble sleeping with others in such close proximity.

Of course it was not the children's fault that they chose to sleep in his bed. There were just not enough beds in the orphanage for each individual child. Many children were orphaned because of the war. The bombings claimed many parents, fathers died in battle, mothers would kill themselves or be forced to give up their children because they were unable to provide for them. Personally, Tom didn't see how sending children to the orphanage would help in any way since the orphanage had trouble providing for the overwhelming amount. Most children would share beds with one another. When it had first started, everybody steered clear of Tom's bed since it was rumored he would curse you for touching it and it was well known that Tom did not like sharing.

After The First Blitz, a flood of children arrived at the orphanage. Unfamiliar with Tom's habits, a few began sleeping on his bed no matter how many times he got rid of them. Eventually he got used to it since for some reason when he accompanied them to bed they stopped bawling which was a relief to him and Mrs. Cole. He also couldn't punish them much because of the incident that happened before; he already had too many strikes against him and did not want to risk getting kicked out of the orphanage before he was ready. Besides, it was only a matter of time before some of the children were taken away to another orphanage and he would not miss them at all.

One of the kids in his bed shifted mumbled a bit in his sleep. His hair was red like Ron's and Tom wondered what Ellie ended up doing with him. He would probably find out tomorrow.

Unless he got fired, of course.

* * *

**A/N:** Still not quite sure what I'm doing here. That feeling you're experiencing right now is called boredom. It's the reason I don't usually do full length fics. Maybe things will get more interesting as more characters appear.


End file.
